The Eagle and the Dove
by tearsofbreakingglass
Summary: France invites Prussia out to his summer home in an effort to save their failing friendship. Emotions and memories come pouring out, making their evening together more intense than either anticipated.


The sunset on the French Riviera was breathtaking. The sky was bleeding a vibrant red and the sun was so bright Gilbert found he was forced to look away. He felt his pale skin burning up. Silently, he cursed his pride for foregoing Francis' suggestion that he apply sunscreen. Then he silently cursed France for inviting him to a place where he could get so easily burnt.

"Why'd you invite me here, alone? I thought you only liked me when Toni's around."

Francis smirked into his glass of wine. "Oui, I do. But, we were once friends, Gilbert." He looked at the Prussian besides him. France's eyes blazed with intensity. "Close friends. I want us to recapture that."

Prussia crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't think that can ever really happen, do you? You invaded me, I invaded you, you dissolved my country, and I'm not going to simply get over that. There's too much there."

France scoffed. "You say that only because you want to be angry at the world. We could all hate each other, we all have every right not to want to cooperate with each other. But we do. Not only that, but we fall in love and become friends with each other. Gilbert, I know you and you know me." He sighed wistfully and gazed out at the water. "I miss you, Gilbert. We used to have such fun together."

Silence held between them, neither knowing what to say or what the other might be thinking. Suddenly, Prussia got up and started walking for the door. He noticed the hurt look on France's face and smiled. "I'm not leaving. This damn sun is killing me, you know I'm not made for this Mediterranean crap."

Relieved, France followed him inside. They both got comfortable on the couch, taking over their respective ends. The silence continued for a few moments longer, both parties mulling over their thoughts. "Why me?" Gilbert's voice was barely above a whisper. "Francis, you know I'm waiting to die in my brother's basement. It's going to be hard enough on him, Roderich, and Lizzie as it is, I don't need any more collateral damage-"

"Gilbert, please don't think in such grim terms! You're not dying! How could you know such a thing?"

Prussia thought of the dog bite. How long it took to heal - how long everything now took to heal. He felt the aches and pains in places where he used to not feel anything, a new awareness he had of all the places where he'd been seriously wounded in battles. He looked away from France, shutting the Frenchman up.

"I do. Trust me on this, I do." His voice was pained. It was the first time he'd told anyone besides his pet birds this.

Gilbert regained his bearings. He tried to force the conversation back to where it was before France's outburst. "I don't need to hurt anyone else. Besides, Arthur can do a good job of understanding you. You guys are two sides of the same coin." He didn't know why he sounded so upset over this. Was it jealousy over never becoming an empire under his own name? That was the only thing it could be, Prussia decided, not wanting to consider the idea for too long.

"Arthur and I have a complex history. Too complex. He's never really wanted to bother with me since the Hundred Years War. He'd rather spend all his time chasing Amerique's tale." Francis almost spat the last part out. He downed the last of his wine and poured himself another glass. "Let him, birds of a feather after all. It's only natural. I'd rather spend my time getting back in touch with more interesting people." Francis got up and got Gilbert a beer. He winked. "Imported from Berlin, just for my honored guest."

Prussia's head was reeling. There was a lot to unpack that France had casually thrown out there. He opened his drink and took a swig to clear his thinking. He'd always known there was something between Britain and France. He never cared for that saga since it always interfered in his wars with Austria, but he had a newfound interest knowing that America was the bit of ass that Arthur was now into. He opened his mouth to speak and Francis cut him off.

"Gil, it's old news. If Ludwig let you come to any of the meetings, you'd know. I'm surprised Hungary didn't tell you all about it."

Prussia narrowed his eyes. "We have bigger concerns than another of your little love triangles."

Francis looked a touch hurt, but moved on. He sized the Prussian up, deciding his next move, and sipped his wine. Gilbert was working on his buzz, hoping that if he had enough beers maybe this night might go by faster.

"Did I ever tell you the time I saw Jeanne?"

Prussia eyed him cautiously. "Depends. If it's her death, ja, you made that public knowledge for centuries."

Francis took a long sip of wine, relishing the moment. "It was a couple years ago. She was a student on a trip or something along those lines. Thankfully much older than her first life allowed her to be." Francis felt whatever wall he had built up melting away at the memory of her. "She looked exactly how I imagined she would if she'd been allowed to age. But that wasn't what tipped me off. I could feel that it was her through her soul. It reached out to me."

Prussia nodded along skeptically. He'd kept his beer firmly in his mouth, forcing himself to not make any rude comments. He sensed a paused where France expected him to beg for more details. He rolled his eyes before giving in. "Did you talk to her?"

"Oui, of course. How could I not? I would've hated myself for the rest of my life if I'd let her pass me by without a word. I showed her all the best places in France and revealed my true nature to her. I had hoped it would bring some memories back. It didn't, but it was still wonderful to see her. It proved a working theory of mine, at least. Those who shaped us and left us will return to us again. It won't be in ways you expect, but they'll be alive and that's all that matters."

That resonated with Gilbert. Images flashed to mind - a raised cane, a fist, his old man. If what France was saying was true, could that mean-? He found himself inching towards the Frenchman, his curiosity drawing him in. Maybe this wretched life couldn't bring him closure, but if there could be happiness for those he's seen and loved, that could make it all worth it. Suddenly it seemed as if France held all the answers on this particular topic. "Has this happened to anyone else?"

Francis shrugged. "Alfred swears to have seen George Washington strolling through his capital during the 1950's and Russia claims seeing Anastasia, but I wouldn't consider either of them accountable." He smiled and leaned back. "Ah, of course. You don't really care about that, do you? That troublesome king of yours is most certainly out there and I believe he will find you. Just as they mean something to us, we mean something to them. Our internal compasses are driving us towards each other."

France rose and extended his hand towards Gilbert. His smile took on a different quality. It became enticing, drawing the Prussian in more. "Enough of that, though. It doesn't do our old hearts well to dwell too much on the past. It's lovely at night and I have a jacuzzi on a balcony overlooking the sea. It would do us both some good to soak away our problems."

A long forgotten feeling of hope buzzed beneath the Prussian's skin. There was something to look forward to, something he would've never known about without the help of his friend. He eyed Francis and smirked. Beneath it all, there was something he felt building up between them, something Gilbert was afraid of considering. But, for now, he decided to enjoy himself. He took France's hand. "C'mon, Francis. We both like to create problems, not forget them."

That night, they created more problems than they had solutions for. Neither of them seemed to care.


End file.
